24: Boston
by JComposer
Summary: This story revolves around the idea that Curtis Manning continued to work at CTU Boston. Curtis, as the new Director of Field Ops, has to stop a biological threat. Features Curtis Manning, along with several new characters. Written in real-time format.


**(Before I start the story, keep in mind this is the first time I've attempted a story in this format (Real time). The entire story will likely be 24 hours, therefore, 24 chapters. I do not own 24, CTU, Curtis Manning, or Sarah Sonya. Every other character mentioned in this chapter is my own original creation.)**

* * *

**The following takes place between 7 AM, and 8 AM.**

* * *

(7:00 AM) 'Director of Field Operations'- He liked the sound of it. Nay, he loved the sound of it. The young CTU agent sat at the desk of his new office. He flicked his favorite pen between his fingers, taking in all the senses of his new position.

At 28 years of age, Special Agent Curtis Manning was the youngest Field Ops Director in CTU's history. The tall African-American sat with a slight grin painted on his face, proud of the position he had attained.

His thoughts were shattered when there was a knock on his office door. Through the frosted glass, he saw the face of Andrew Python, his protégé and Assistant Director of Field Ops. He motioned for the young agent to enter. He took a seat in the chair in front of Curtis' desk. "What can I do for you, Agent Python?" Curtis asked, still getting used to his new superiority.

The agent wasted no time. "Sir, I've just been informed that someone on our watch list has been spotted in the city," he said, rather quickly.

Curtis raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"He was spotted with a group of British agents, most likely MI6," Python explained.

"I see..." Curtis said, scratching his chin lightly. "Could you contact MI6 New York City, and tell them I'd like to speak with them, please?"

Python nodded his head, almost eagerly. "Of course, sir." He stood up and started to walk out of the room.

"Oh, and one more thing, Agent. What's the name of the man you spotted?"

Python turned around and squinted his eyes, appearing as though he was trying to remember the name. His face lit up. "It was Jacob Briscoe, sir. I'll get the file on him to you as soon as I call MI6."

Curtis smiled. He liked being in command. "That'll be all, Agent Python." As soon as Python left the room, Curtis chuckled to himself. The young agent's enthusiasm showed his inexperience. Nevertheless, he was qualified for the job he had.

* * *

(7:06 AM) Andrew Python trotted down the steps from Curtis Manning's office. The young agent loved working under Curtis; he practically idolized him. He reached his station, and for a brief moment, looked up at the Field Director's office. He wished that someday, the office would be his. He smiled to himself as he picked up his desktop phone and dialed CTU Operations.

"Operations," a female droned in a monotone voice.

"This is Andrew Python, CTU Boston. Access code CTUAP0911," he said, waiting for his code to be entered.

After a moment, the voice responded in a slightly brighter tone, "What can I do for you, Agent Python?"

"Please connect me with the MI6 New York City branch."

He heard a few beeps, and then the female voice responded, "You're on with MI6."

There was a click, and a British male voice answered. "This is Ted Ryers, Special Agent of MI6. Who am I speaking with?"

Andrew straightened up a bit, and used his most confident voice. "This is Andrew Python, Assistant Director of Field Operations at CTU Boston," he said, almost chuckling at his lengthy title. "I'm calling to ask for the file of a man we have under surveillance. A Mister Jacob Briscoe."

He waited for a moment. "Ah yes, Mr. Briscoe," Ted replied. "We have quite a lengthy file on him, would you like me to send it to you?"

"Actually, I think my superior wanted the file. I'll transfer you over to him." Andrew pulled the handset away from his ear, and pushed the call to Curtis' office.

* * *

(7:09 AM) The desk phone in Curtis' office rang. He picked it up on the first ring. "Curtis Manning," he said authoritatively.

A British male spoke. "This is Ted Ryers over at MI6. Agent Python transferred me over to you. He said you wanted the file of Jacob Briscoe?"

Curtis nodded his head, as if he were sitting with the MI6 agent. "That's correct. We spotted him in the city this morning with a group of your agents."

"Yes, I figured you would. We're conducting a surveillance operation on him as we speak," the MI6 agent explained. "There's no need to worry, we have the situation under control."

Curtis smiled. "Thank you, could you send the file over to me please? We'd like to take a look at it."

"Of course, Mr. Manning, it'll be over shortly." The phone clicked. Curtis laid the handset in the base. Turning to his computer, he opened up his email account. He awaited the file transfer.

* * *

(7:10 AM) Phillip Walsh walked down the streets of Downtown Boston. His footsteps were heavy, and he did his best to remain inconspicuous, which wasn't working out very well. The older teenager had a look of crime on his face, which was scarred and bruised. It looked like he had just gotten out of a fight, which wasn't exactly far from the truth.

Under his leather coat was a silenced pistol. He wore leather gloves to prevent himself from leaving fingerprints on his weapon. He could still smell gun smoke from when the weapon had last been discharged, which was a mere 15 minutes earlier. He spotted his next target. Rather, targets.

A group of three men was walking on the sidewalk across the street from him. He had been instructed to take out the men on either side of the man in the middle, and escort the remaining person back to his safe house. Walsh crossed the mildly busy street, and walked behind the group he was targeting. He had to take them out quickly, before they had the chance to react.

Looking around, he saw a small number of people in the area. Surely there would be witnesses, but it really didn't matter, since by the time the police arrived, he and the other man would be long gone.

He quickened his pace until he was about five feet from the group of men, then he slowed down and retrieved the pistol from his coat. He stopped and aimed directly at the head of the man on the left and pulled the trigger, a quiet 'plink' ringing out. Before the other man had time to react, he fired his weapon at him as well.

Running towards the remaining middle man, he grabbed his arm and shoved the pistol back in his coat in one swift move. The pair ran down the sidewalks, brushing past people walking. He heard shouting behind him, and quickly glanced back to see a small group of pedestrians formed around the two bodies.

"You the guy Vik sent?" the man asked in a whisper. "Yeah," Walsh replied, leading him down the sidewalks. As they turned a corner, a police car was parked ahead of them, about a hundred feet away. "Keep moving, and duck your head so no one sees you," he ordered.

They moved swiftly past the police cruiser, the officers inside paying little attention to the pair as they walked by them. Walsh kept his hand near the concealed pistol in his coat, just in case he needed to use it again.

* * *

(7:15 AM) Just as Curtis received the file from MI6, Python came up the stairs quickly. He entered the office without knocking, something totally out of character for the agent.

"Agent Manning, we have a serious situation," Python said in a rushed tone. Curtis straightened up in his chair. "Boston PD just found two men dead on the sidewalks of downtown. They match the descriptions of the MI6 agents that were accompanying Jacob Briscoe. Apparently, a witness claims a third man was escorted away by another guy in his late teens."

Curtis' mouth gaped open some. "You're telling me that two MI6 agents were just taken out? Was it professional?"

Python nodded grimly. "It appears so, sir. Witness claims he saw the guy shoot them down with a suppressed pistol. I'd say that's pretty professional."

Curtis sighed and rubbed his head. "Alright, I want you to contact Boston PD, as well as FBI, and put out an alert for Briscoe and this unnamed man. Tell Sonya I want to meet with her, okay?"

Python stood to attention. "Right away, sir."

* * *

(7:18 AM) Katherine O'Hare looked out the window of her condominium, looking at the situation unfolding on the streets below. She smiled to herself; it appeared Walsh had succeeded in taking out Briscoe's MI6 escort.

Buttoning up her sweater, she moved to the kitchen, where she saw Paul, her boyfriend, waiting impatiently next to the coffee maker, holding a large coffee cup. She smiled at him. "Morning sweetie," she said as she leaned over his shoulder and kissed his cheek gently, brushing up against his short brown hair in the process.

He smiled at her. "Look at you," he said, turning to her. "You look gorgeous, babe." He smiled and kissed her again, this time on the lips.

She blushed a little. "Aww, sweetie, I don't look that good, it's just my work outfit," she said, giggling a little.

"Of course you look good, you always do." The two looked in each others' eyes briefly before breaking their embrace. He walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, searching through its contents. "I asked Stephanie if she and Larry wanted to come over for dinner on Friday night, she said she'd consider it." He closed the door. "Maybe that means 'yes'," he said with a chuckle.

She grinned and looked at the clock on the microwave. It was 7:21 AM. "Crap, I'm almost late for work. I'll see you tonight, okay babe?" Kate said, kissing his cheek lightly.

He smiled again. "Looking forward to it, babe." The two exchanged another kiss before she grabbed her car keys off the counter and started out the door.

Paul noticed she was forgetting something. "Kate, hold up a second!" he shouted after her. He snatched an ID card sitting on the table, and handed it to her. It had her picture, along with "CTU" written on it.

She slapped her forehead. "Thanks Paul, I wouldn't be able to get in without it!" She hugged him and opened the door. "See you tonight!"

* * *

(7:22 AM) Sarah Sonya entered the Curtis Manning's office with a knock. "Curtis? Andrew said you wanted to see me," she said, using both agents' first names. She was a laid-back woman, in contrast to Curtis, who was usually very serious about his job. Today was no exception.

He gestured her in, and motioned for her to sit in a chair facing him. "I was just informed that MI6 just had two agents taken out downtown, right in the middle of the streets. They were working undercover with Jacob Briscoe, a British man who is supposedly working with an Irish terrorist group."

"Oh my God," she said with a gasp. "What's MI6's response?"

Curtis shook his head. "Not sure, we've just informed them. I had Agent Python put out an alert for the assassin and Mr. Briscoe. What do you think we should be doing, tactically?"

She thought for a moment. "I don't know, Curtis. You're the head of Field Ops, this is your call to make. My suggestion is to assemble a small TAC team and pursue them."

Curtis narrowed his eyes a bit. "Are you sure? We don't even know where they've gone. They could be outside the city. If they are, we're not authorized to handle it."

"And if they haven't left, it's our responsibility to find them. I'll have Brian use traffic cams to follow them through the city. My suggestion to you is to get a team together and find them. Understood?"

The seriousness of Sonya's voice made Curtis shiver a bit. She was almost never this serious. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on it."

* * *

(7:26 AM) The two men arrived at the house. Phillip knocked on the front door loudly. After a brief moment of silence, the wooden door quickly opened, and the pair was pulled inside by a large Irish man. The door slammed behind them.

The house was dim, and it was somewhat hard to see, even though the sun was already in the sky. The pair was led through the house, which had several men armed with assault rifles inside, ready to retaliate against any attackers. They reached the living room, where a large, bearded Russian man was sitting, holding a glass of whisky in his right hand. He was flanked by two guards with pistols in holsters on their hips. All three men looked intimidating.

"Ah, Phillip! Jacob! Glad you could make it," the Russian said in a thick Russian accent. "Phillip, you might be young, but you proved yourself today. Care for a drink, either of you?"

Phillip chuckled. "No thanks, sir. I'm good." Jacob passed as well. The Russian waved his hand. "Ah well, more for me." The men guarding the Russian laughed. He took a sip of the liquor and set it on the coffee table in front of him. Both Jacob and Phillip sat down on a couch opposite the Russian man.

"Alright, let's get down to business. First, I need to know if any police saw you." Phillip shook his head.

"No sir, only a few pedestrians, but I don't think they'll be giving us much trouble," Phillip explained.

"Good to hear, m'boy," the man said happily. "If there are any problems, I have someone on the inside that can sabotage police efforts."

Jacob nodded his head. "Good to hear, Mr. Ross. Is the ship on time?"

"Yes, of course it is. It will arrive at 9:15, so my men will be moving out to the harbor in about 30 minutes," Ross explained.

Phillip's ears perked. "Ship? What ship?" he inquired.

"Careful, m'boy. Too many questions, and you might get into trouble!" Ross said, adding a laugh at the end. He took another drink of whisky.

Phillip laughed nervously. "Yes sir, of course..."

* * *

(7:32 AM) Kate pulled her black Pontiac into the CTU Boston parking lot. Applying a small amount of last-second make-up, she exited the car door, making sure she had her credentials for CTU, and her cell phone. Walking through the front door, she showed her ID to the security guard at the front, and went on to the main floor of CTU.

As she walked through the bullpen, she noticed a heightened amount of activity. People were moving about at a quicker pace, and there was an aura of alert in the room. _Perfect,_ she thought. _Looks like things are right on schedule._ She took her seat at her station, which was right next to Brian Caldwell, the Senior Analyst at CTU.

"You're late," Brian said harshly.

Kate sighed. "I know I am, Brian, I woke up late, okay?" He shook his head.

"Look, if it happens again, I'm gonna have to tell Sonya."

She panicked a bit. If Brian told Sonya, she might get suspended, or even terminated. "Please, I'll make sure to be on time again, and if I know I'm going to be late, I'll call in beforehand."

Brian smirked. "That's more like it. Alright, let me bring you up to speed. About 20 minutes ago, two MI6 agents were taken out downtown, just a few miles from here. They were working undercover with a British man, named Jacob Briscoe. We believe he's working with Irish and Russian terrorist groups."

Kate was a little surprised at how fast CTU had gathered this information. But she wasn't worried, she knew they'd figure it out soon enough. "What's the threat?" she asked.

Brian shrugged. "We're trying to figure that out now. I've put out an inter-agency bulletin regarding our status. I need you to keep an eye out for any communication Briscoe has. As soon as I find his phone signal, I'll give you that task. Take a few minutes and get yourself settled in. It's going to be a long day."

"Damn," Kate whispered. "I was supposed to go out with Paul tonight..."

Brian chuckled a bit. "We'll try and make it so you don't miss too much of your date, 'kay?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "If you say so, Brian. If you say so..."

* * *

(7:37 AM) Curtis stood in the locker room, along with Agent Python, with nine other agents in the room. They were the top agents CTU Boston had, and Curtis knew they would get the job done right.

"Alright men, listen up," he said loudly. "We've been informed that a man, Jacob Briscoe, has evaded MI6 surveillance. Two MI6 agents working with him were killed this morning, about half an hour ago. We're monitoring traffic cams now, to find out where Briscoe and an unnamed assailant went. As soon as we know where they are, we'll hunt them down. Be ready to move out at any moment."

Curtis turned away to Python. He walked to a more secluded area of the room. "We're going to need three vehicles. Two to transport agents, and another in case we take prisoners. Make sure we have at least one sniper. Got that?" He asked Python.

Python nodded. "Yes sir, I'll have Reed be our sniper, and Kyle as a backup."

Curtis smiled a little. He liked the initiative the young agent was taking. "Good, they're both good agents. I'm putting you in command of a full tactical unit, you think you can handle it?"

Python stood proudly. "Of course, sir."

* * *

(7:40 AM) "Almost there..." Brian said, his face intently studying his computer screen. "Gotcha!" He laughed. "Couldn't escape The Brain, could ya?" he asked the screen.

Kate, sitting on the other side of him, couldn't help but chuckle. "Talking to your computer again Brian?" she asked, laughs escaping from her mouth.

"I'd like to see you try and do this, Kate," he said half-smugly, half-jokingly. Kate rolled her eyes. He picked up his desk phone's handset, and dialed a number. "Ms. Sonya, I've found them. This was taken 18 minutes ago," Brian said over the phone, looking at his watch. "They appear to be entering some sort of house. The address is 198 12th Street. Please advise Agent Manning and his teams, and have Boston PD set up a perimeter around the house." Brian hung up the phone.

"Nice job," Kate said. "Looks like I underestimated you."

He scoffed lightly. "You never underestimate The Brain, Kate."

* * *

(7:43 AM) Andrew looked at the agents in the locker room; it was the first time he'd ever been given command of a Tactical team. He'd taken the assignment proudly, of course, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous about it. "Okay gentlemen, listen up," Andrew said, getting the attention of the agents in the room. Curtis watched from a distance. "We have a location on the suspect. It's a house, at 198 12th Street, about three miles from here. There's a building across the street, I want Reed and Kyle taking up sniping positions for recon. Agent Manning will be in charge of a four-man team, and I will lead a three-man team, plus the two snipers. Any questions?"

"Sir, what are our orders for force?" Agent Reed asked.

"You are only to use lethal force on the suspect if you are fired upon. Otherwise, it's safeties on."

Curtis stepped out. "Alright, let's get ready to roll, team. We leave in two minutes."

* * *

(7:45 AM) Ross sat on the couch, still flanked by the two guards. He was on his second glass of whisky, and, being a stereotypical Russian, wouldn't become heavily intoxicated until the third or fourth glass.

One of the guards whispered something in his ear. "Is that so?" he asked. He turned to Phillip and Jacob. "I've just been informed that CTU is on their way here now. Unfortunately, by the time they get here, we'll be gone." He turned back to the guard. "Tell the men to move on an accelerated timetable, they need to go to the harbor now."

Phillip stood up. "What about us? Are we coming too?"

Ross chuckled. "I told you before, m'boy. Too many questions will get you in trouble. You just got in trouble." He pulled out a short silenced pistol from his suit jacket, and before the teen could react, he shot him in the chest twice. He fell to the ground, making no more than a small grunt.

Jacob looked at the ground. "It had to be done," he said quietly. "Even so, I feel a little bad..."

Ross nodded. "Well, what can you do? He's dead. Now come on, we're moving out!"

* * *

(7:48 AM) Curtis rode in the jet-black SUV along with his Tactical team. Agent Python was in his own car, with his team. The snipers were with him as well.

He was slightly nervous about having someone as young as Andrew Python lead a Tactical team. Although, he did have proper qualifications. He had some of the highest scores out of any field agent that had been in the branch. But it wasn't his scores that worried Curtis, it was his inexperience.

Andrew Python was only 24 years old. He wasn't married, didn't have any children, nor did he have a girlfriend. It was the same with Curtis. 

_Unfortunately, it's part of the job,_ Curtis thought to himself. He sighed as he prepared himself for his assignment.

* * *

(7:49 AM) Kate glanced at her cell phone, which had vibrated in her pocket. _Call me_, it read. It came from a secured line. Ross.

She stood from her station. "Back in a second," she told Brian, who was concentrating on cameras. Walking over to a quiet part of the bullpen, she pulled out her phone, and dialed Ross's number. She recognized the half-drunken Russian's voice immediately. "What is it?" she asked in a whisper.

"Kate, things are moving quicker than we thought. I need you to monitor the harbor and keep my team updated on the ship," Ross said, slurring slightly.

Kate looked around to make sure no one was listening. "I can't exactly do that," she said, even quieter. "I've been assigned to work on Briscoe's cell, and as soon as Caldwell finds his signal, I'll have to be doing that to keep my cover. If you want me to remain focused, destroy Briscoe's phone or use a scrambler."

"Fine, we'll destroy his phone. Make sure Brian doesn't find the signal. If he does, distract him until we can break it. Keep an eye on that ship!"

Kate hung up the phone before the Russian could bark at her more. She took at deep breath and smoothed out her shirt, flicking away a piece of dust. She walked back to her station with a smile plastered on her face.

A young analyst watched the event from behind a corner. _I knew it,_ he thought to himself. He walked over to his desk and picked up his phone.

"Get me Greg Patton," he said with authority.

* * *

(7:52 AM) The three cars pulled up to an apartment building one block away from the house. Curtis stepped out with his hand on his holstered pistol, ready to pull his firearm out in case something went wrong. His team had already exited the vehicle, and were huddled close to each other, making final preparations.

Andrew stepped out of his car next, his team and the two snipers following him. The group of eleven men stood together in a half-circle.

"Alright," Curtis said loudly, but not shouting. "My team will be entering the house through the front door. Python's team moves in from the side entrance to the left. Reed and Kyle will be positioned on the roof of the building across the street. Remember, we need to apprehend the suspect. Are we clear?" Seeing no protests, he turned to Python once more.

"Andrew, you ready for this?" he asked the younger field agent.

Andrew nodded somewhat nervously. "Yes sir... I am." Curtis narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure why he had placed so much trust in this guy...then he remembered his excellent performance. He smiled. "You'll do fine," he said reassuringly. Withdrawing his handgun from its holster, he gathered his team around. "Alright, we are a go!"

* * *

(7:54 AM) "Damn it, I don't care about chain of command, I have to speak to Greg Patton!" the analyst yelled into the phone. He noticed a few people staring at him. "Please, this is an urgent matter," he told the person on the other end in a much calmer, quieter tone.

The man on the phone sighed. "Very well, I'll get Mr. Patton," he said, almost sounding defeated. The analyst moved the mouthpiece of the phone away from his mouth, taking in a deep sigh of relief. _Finally,_ he thought. _I thought that would last an hour._

There was a click, and a man answered. "This is Greg Patton, Special Agent in Command of District Northeast, who am I speaking with?"

"Mr. Patton," the analyst started. "This is Michael Fran, I'm an analyst at CTU Boston."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Fran? This had better be important, considering you bypassed your several bosses to tell me this," Greg said impatiently.

"Sir, I have a reasonable belief that there is a traitor inside CTU, and that she is helping the same Irish and Russian terrorists who assassinated the MI6 agents this morning," Michael said quietly. He didn't want the person to hear him.

There was a short moment of silence. Then, "May I ask who it is, Mr. Fran?"

Michael sighed deeply. "Yes, sir. It's the Special Agent in Charge of the branch. Sarah Sonya."

* * *

(7:56 AM) Sarah sat in her office, flicking a pen nervously between her fingers. She was worried about Curtis. The young director was the best agent they had, there was no doubt in her mind about that. But he had just been promoted the the position a mere hour before, so naturally, she was worried he would become overwhelmed at the sudden influx of responsibilities, along with his inexperience on being in command.

As she was thinking about Curtis, she spotted Michael Fran, as well as three security guards walking together. She tilted her head a bit, confused at what the young, but talented, analyst was up to.

She picked up her desk phone, and as she was about to dial Operations, she realized there was no dial tone. Her phone had been disabled.

Acting on impulse, she withdrew the Glock 17 pistol that was holstered on her hip, at the same time that the group of four men arrived at her door. One of them knocked.

"Ms. Sonya, this is Security. We have a warrant for your arrest."

She closed her eyes. _A warrant? What the hell did I do?_ she thought. The office door opened. Sarah raised her weapon, aiming at the security guards. "Stop right there!" she commanded.

The guard on the left withdrew his weapon. "Ms. Sonya! Drop the gun!" he shouted, pointing his weapon at her.

She flinched. There was an awkward pause between the five of them. "W-What do you want with me?" she asked, stuttering a bit.

"Ma'am, a warrant has been issued for your arrest. Now please, come with us or else we will use force!" the guard shouted.

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. She lowered her weapon and slowly placed it on the table, placing her hands behind her head. Just a second later she heard the clicking of handcuffs.

* * *

(7:58 AM) Kate watched the scene from her workstation. Brian, although he was supposed to be busy, was also watching.

"Who would've guessed Sonya was working against us?" Kate asked, shaking her head. In her mind, she was rejoicing. The head of CTU was going to be gone in a short time.

Brian looked at her before answered Kate's question. "What, are you kidding? I don't believe a word of it. I've known Sarah Sonya for three years, and she's been nothing but loyal to this agency," he argued defensively.

Before Kate could respond, there was a beep on Brian's computer. Kate tried to peer over to see what it was. "Hang on a second, I think I found something," he said, reading the text on the screen intently. Then, his face almost turned white. "Oh my God," he whispered.

Kate's eyes widened. "What? What is it?" she asked in a hurried tone. "The harbormaster, John Preak, was just killed at the Boston Harbor," Brian said quietly. "One of the security guards says he saw a bunch of Russians enter the front gates of Dock 4a, and then one of the Russians shot the harbormaster in the head."

Kate gasped. "Oh my God," she repeated in a louder voice than Brian had used. She squinted her eyes. "W-Wait a minute..." she said nervously. What kind of ship is arriving in Dock 4a?"

Brian was quiet for a moment, then he stared straight into Kate's eyes. "It's an Irish ship. Medical. The description here says that it contains some sort of hazardous material on board."

"Hazardous material?" Kate echoed. "What kind of hazard?"

Brian inhaled and then sharply exhaled. "Biological. They're chemical weapons."

7:59:57...

7:59:58...

7:59:59...

8:00:00


End file.
